The Hamato Overture: Valentine's Day
by Connie Nervegas
Summary: This another pop-out holiday themed chapter, like Halloween. Raph struggles, agonizes, worries, and stresses over getting Shannon a Valentine's Day present. And then worries and stresses. Followed by agonizing.


_So it's Valentine's Day. The only men in my life are furry and sitting on my lap. There's a winter storm and my pipes are freezing and I guess 50 Shades of Grey is the biggest thing this Valentine's Day, even though it's kind of the least romantic thing out there. But then I guess I don't equate legal contracts to control your behavior as very romantic. I know I did one of these stand-alone holiday things for Hamato Overture for Halloween and thought maybe Valentine's Day would be fun. So I'm going to eat Valentine's Day candy THAT I BOUGHT FOR MYSELF! And drink wine and write about Raph trying to be romantic. While I watch the polar air blow around my house._

At some point in American history, a myth formed in the female imagination that all men forget dates important to women, like anniverseries, birthdays and Valentine's Day, unless prompted by an accidental reminder and then they half-ass finding a gift or making dinner arrangements. But deep in the sewers of New York City, this myth proved false. Maybe it was because he wasn't technically a man, so this myth did not apply.

Raph had agonized over Valentine's Day for at least six weeks. A flippant newscaster declared that the day after Christmas marks six weeks until Valentine's Day and his head exploded with repulsive red hearts and pink cherubs. But simultaneous promises a pretty girl in a sexy negligee and tons of hot sex that day interfered with the paralyzing terror. It left him rather nauseously aroused and instead he watched a forensic special to eradicate the idea from the festering cesspool of the male teenage mind. He was not some horny guy looking to get laid, making offerings of chocolates and flowers to the goddess in hopes of sexual favors. She was a good girl and he needed to do something romantic. Something just for her. His stomach clenched.

"…Jennifer Fitzsimmons hadn't been seen since the night of February 14th, 1984. She had been on her way to a romantic dinner with her husband. Her boss, Jason Chang, reported her missing when she uncharacteristically hadn't shown up for work the next day. Jason remembered going to her house that morning to enquire of her husband, Max Fitzsimmons, if Jennifer was well. Max behaved strangely and said that his wife hadn't shown up for dinner as planned the night before on Valentine's Day. Jason found his behavior suspicious and called the police…"

He turned off the television and decided to stare at his Facebook and troll Mikey for a while. But there were Victoria's Secret ads on every page advertising sexy Valentine's Day deals. Maybe he should just buy her the lingerie. That would be a pretty strong hint. But what size did she wear? Asking for her bra size sounded repulsively creepy. And guessing proved to have too many variables for negative outcomes.

It wasn't even New Year's Eve yet! Couldn't he just enjoy the rest of the year without panicking about Valentine's Day? Thankfully, New York City was attacked by a giant robot and he and his brothers raced to the surface to save the world. A convenient distraction from the horrors of Valentine's Day.

* * *

There was still a month to plan. Plenty of time. He should buy her something. It wasn't like he could take her anywhere.

* * *

Three weeks left. What to buy. He'd settled on buying something. Lingerie… No, not lingerie, dumbass. You don't know her size or if it would send the message that you're a horny creeper. Flowers or something. Whatever. You can't just get flowers! What if she's allergic and gets a rash. Well, it's time for dinner now anyway…

* * *

Two weeks to go… Uh… buy her something… She's allergic to flowers. No, she isn't! You just suspected she's allergic. Maybe ask somebody for advice? But then you look like an idiot with no romantic bone in your body. But you ARE an idiot with no romantic bone in your body. Who to ask though? April's a girl. Better ask a dude…

* * *

For some reason, asking Casey seemed like a good idea. He was cool. Probably didn't like the whole romantic sissy crap that came around every year in a frenzy of cupid's arrows and pinkness. They chased a group of thugs through an alley, a building burning brightly nearby. "This fire is kind of nice. It's toasty warm!" Raph observed as they sprinted after the arsonists. "What do you do for Valentine's Day? Nothing right? It's a day for men who wear lady's panties."

Casey hooked a thug with the crook of his hockey stick and spun him in the air over his head. "Are you kidding? Me and April go to a hotel and don't come out for days. Last year she bought one of those sexy board games where every time you…"

"I don't need to know the details!" Raph shouted as he grabbed an arsonist by the collar and flung him into the wall. "Sexy board game? So you play strip Monopoly?"

The thug said, with his face buried against the wall, "No, man! You spin and you do whatever sex act it says on the square. It's good for stale relationships. My therapist at couples counseling suggested trying it along with tantric yoga. It's helped a lot."

"We're not in a rut! So we don't need stupid crap like that! I want to do something nice! I'm a gentleman, damn it!" And he bashed the guy's face into the wall, thinking that he hoped his injuries made his wife feel needed during his recovery and made them closer as a couple. Either that or he would go to jail and she'd jump on the next available goon.

Casey pulled a zip tie out of his back pocket and looped it around the thug's wrists. "You want to borrow some of these for Valentine's night, Butch?" Then he laughed and Raph stomped like an angry toddler.

"We don't do kinky shit like that! I want to… give her something… something really nice… Or take her somewhere…"

The thug on the ground with his wrist in the zip ties said, "You should take her out to a restaurant. Or a classical concert. Like they're playing Bolero on Valentine's Day. That's what I'm doing with my girlfriend on Valentine's Day. I could give you the name of the ticket scalper, if you'd like."

"Yeah! She's a classical musician… Hey, wait… I can't take her to that. She's playing in that concert! I guess I should go listen to it. That'll be like I might as well be alone. This sucks!" And he petulantly sat down on a garbage can as he warmed himself in the bright flames of the Hancock Hotel.

"You'd better get something going soon," Casey said. "80% of all relationships fail within two weeks of Valentine's Day because of the lack of success men have in planning special things for their women. I heard that on Doctor Phil when I was laid up because that Intergalactic terrorist landed his spaceship on my apartment building."

"Are you sure?" the arsonist with his face in the brick wall asked. "That sounds like bullshit. I don't trust Doctor Phil. Where are his sources? His studies that he cites? Does he just imagine this stuff and say that it's legit research?"

Raph decided that the arsonists seemed to have the best romantic advice and looked up tantric yoga on the internet, but it reminded him too much of Leo because he kept imagining Leo and his future wife mentioning how it had saved their marriage. He did pretty well without fancy voodoo sex meditation! She hadn't complained yet anyway. Well, accept that time that they did it in a tree house and she got a splinter in her butt.

* * *

Eleven more days. Raph sat in the lab, awkwardly staring at the back of Don's head as he dropped noxious chemicals into a petrie dish and curiously watched the small puffs of smoke that it emitted. Then he cursed quietly as the petrie dish cracked and the chemical leaked all over the desk.

"So…" Don said as he picked up the petrie dish with a pair of tongs and set them aside so he could assess the damage to the desk. "Is there a reason you're hovering in here? Are you hiding from something or someone?"

"What are guys supposed to do for their girl on Valentine's Day?" Raph said it casually, hoping that it sounded like vague curiosity and not as if he were asking for any practical applicatory reasons.

"Do you mean historically or statistically? Don't you just buy them flowers, call them pretty and have sex?" Don tried to mop up the chemical with a dish rag and then threw it on the ground to stomp it out when it burst into flames.

Raph took a lazy step backwards from the tiny inferno. "She'd know you didn't put any time into it though! You're supposed to look like you put a ton of thinking into it and like it was her that inspired the thought of it to show your appreciation!"

"It sounds a lot like Mother's Day to me," Don said as he removed the welder's mask. "Maybe they're linked… Good thing we don't have a mother, Raph. You'd spend the whole spring breathing into a paper bag, wouldn't you?"

"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!" Raph said, balling up his fists.

"It means you're a mama's boy. What did you think it meant? How much time have you put into thinking about this?" Don sat down at the work bench and whacked a piece of metal with a hammer for no apparent reason.

"A month. But I need to think of something good! There's an 80% chance she'll break up with me! She'll see that I couldn't think of anything good enough!" Raph collapsed on a van seat that sat mangled across the room. "Well, what the fuck ever. It's a stupid holiday invented by chocolate companies. And I'll just tell her so." He swaggered out of the lab, hoping that it covered for his momentary lapse in manly apathy.

* * *

Eight more days. Hamato, you are a loser.

* * *

Seven more days. That's a week. You are a loser. And a mama's boy.

* * *

Six days. He bought a box of chocolates and then Mikey ate them all before he could hide them.

"I thought they must be for me!" Mikey said with a mouth full of coconutty-chocolate. "You want some?"

"I got that for Shannon! Why would I buy you Valentine's Day chocolates when I hate buying this kind of shit and you know I have girl out there that I have to buy something for! You total dumbass!" Yelling at Mikey made him feel much better and he deflated a little. They were a lame idea anyway.

"Do you need romantic advice? I am the ladies man! Just read that new romance book that women like. Women are leaving their husbands to find guys like him. He's supposed to be the most romantic character ever. I haven't read it because I'm on extra katas from that time I jumped out at April in the dark in her apartment and she hit me with the fire extinguisher. I don't why I'm the one being punished! I'm the one who got hit in the head!"

Raph pulled up an illegal copy of 50 Shades of Grey on his phone and began reading as if his life depended on finishing this one stupid novel in a day. He wouldn't ever pay to read this book. And was this Christian-Billionaire-Grey the new romantic hunk all women were talking about? Had Shannon read this book? Did she expect him to have the same romantic skills? Maybe he had finally found a way to cut romance off at the pass.

* * *

What the fuck…? Shannon had better not read this garbage. Not that he would stop her, but he would stare disapprovingly. Why does this douche bag need a contract to touch his dick? Maybe he should have it appraised by Sotheby's. And he practically forces her to eat. Anal fisting? Why is that brought up in a romance novel? He's wasn't going to do any of that shit with her! He wanted something ROMANTIC! NICE things to do! This guy was nothing but a rich, spoiled, jackass. A REAL MAN lets his woman do anything she likes. That's why you picked her. Because you like her. He should be protecting her. Not whipping her. He pictured Shannon in bondage and almost heaved. Nothing but absolute deference and reference was good enough for his goddess.

And this sissy didn't like his women touching him, so he had to keep them tied up all the time? Maybe he already had his balls removed and didn't realize it. Like he'd gone in for gallbladder surgery and they'd accidentally castrated him. If Raph spent every minute of his day with Shannon's silky hands running carefully over his body, he would die a very happy death.

Maybe Leo would have a good idea. Raph hovered in the Leo's bedroom, watching him write a grocery list until Leo finally said, "Do you want something?"

"Uh…" Okay. Just ask. "I need… Uh…"

"Is something wrong? Are you injured?" Leo immediately flew into full-mother-hen-panic-mode.

"Chill out! I wanted… to know if we're training later today. Okay!" Raph backed slowly out of Leo's room.

"No, we're not." Leo clearly didn't believe his protestations of well-being. "Are you sure you don't need Don to give you a medical or something?"

Raph fled Leo's room and locked himself in the bathroom.

* * *

Day five. What a waste of his precious time. And only five days to go before Shannon broke up with him because he was an unromantic troll. Maybe flowers weren't such a bad idea. She was so pretty and flowers were pretty. But nothing was quite as pretty as her. If he were smarter he might write her a song. But he could hardly play three chords on the guitar because of the whole lacking fingers issue. But why would he write a song for a musical genius?

Would she give him anything? Now that he thought about it, did girls give anything to their boyfriends? Should he act surprised? What if she gave him something totally weird? He would thank his reptilian stars that such a beautiful creature chose to give him anything at all.

He always had a feeling that he was counting down to a definitive expiration date, like in T minus three weeks she would suddenly dump him. Maybe T minus five more days…

* * *

Day four. Well it was nice while it lasted. He hit the punching bag for several hours until Leo asked what he was doing and then he punched Leo for a while.

* * *

Day two. Raph set his Facebook status to "single."

* * *

Day one. He bought a bouquet of flowers and sat in a tunnel by himself, watching Frozen, her favorite movie, on his phone. He knew this girl… He loved this girl… Why… Think, dumbass…

* * *

Zero hour. Raph went to her concert performance of Bolero and didn't fall asleep. It was the most sensual classical experience he could remember and he'd always assumed classical music was for old women without a sensual molecule left in their bodies. She played beautifully and he felt increasingly more and more like a scar covered mutant with no business even talking to this girl. But he remembered the few nights he'd spent with her, touching her, gauging every breath and droplet of sweat, remember all the pain she'd experienced in her short sweet life and hoping in his stupid male brain to bring her something new; something good to erase some of the old memories. He fell asleep briefly those nights, imagining the calm life he could have with this girl.

But that didn't amount to a Valentine's Day present.

* * *

After her show, he sat on the roof of the concert hall like a gargoyle and watched as her mother loaded her instruments into the back of the car and drove her back to the hospital. The little show poodle had jumped through the flaming hoops and now it was time to lock her back up in her cage.

Shannon sat on her bed in her performance gown and sighed. Raph knocked on her window and waited for an invitation. She skipped to the window and threw it up, then moved aside so he could come through. "I missed you today!" she said as she pulled up on her bra rather immodestly. "You look sad! Why are you sad?"

He hopped into her room and then stood hung his head, heart beating with the anticipation of unavoidable fate. He knew this was all too good to be true… Just one more statistic.

Raph stammered and shifted his weight back and forth for at least thirty seconds. "I… I never came up with a Valentine's Day present and so if you want to put me in the 80% of guys who… uh…" Then his emotions flooded into his veins and he said, "Look, I don't have anything to give you but myself. I totally submit. Do whatever you like with me. I'm your slave. I'm you're… anything… What do you want to do? Just name it. I'll do anything you want. I'll get down on my knees if it makes you happy!" And he knelt down before her like a defeated enemy, awaiting his punishment.

She said, "I didn't get you anything either… I thought and thought and thought until my brain hurt. I couldn't think of anything good enough for you, and…" Her voice broke.

Raph looked up into her face and saw that her grey eyes were full of tears, "I got some real pretty lingerie and I was going to surprise you, but… I got my period yesterday! I feel awful! And I'm too gross to touch! I'm so sorry! I didn't do it on purpose! Please don't dump me! We can still do it if you want!" She got down on her knees clumsily, tripping on her concert gown and flung her arms around his neck.

"Who do I look like? Christian-fucking-Grey? If you feel lousy, then what do you want? A massage? Uh…" He repressed his disgust. Girls endured this horror every month. He could at least make her feel better in her time of trial. He'd offered up his body as a sacrifice and it was up to him to make her feel better. "Do you want food? A pizza? We could take a bath…"

Shannon looked at him with a deep stare, as if she were assessing his sincerity. He knew she was looking straight through him… "Could I have some soup? From the microwave?" She sneezed and then covered her face. "I have a cold! I'm sick! You can't even kiss me! I shouldn't have even kissed you!"

His heart melted and he sighed with relief at the same time. "It's fine, Da-Rin. So what do you want to do? Your wish is my command…"

"Hmmm…." She stuck out her tongue and thought for a second. "Can we… just watch a movie? Like Up? I hope we're like that when we're old! And could you maybe make me a sandwich? Is that okay?" Her shoulders hunched with uncertainty.

He kissed her runny nose. "If that's what you want."

"Don't kiss me!" She threw her hands in front of her face and said, "You'll get sick!"

"I don't care. I know I'll get sick. But I got it from you. And if you want me to rub your back and watch Up and make you a sandwich, I'll do it." And he did.

They lay on her bed together and he absently rubbed her shoulders as she ate her sandwich and a mountain of candy. "This is the saddest movie ever made…" he said as he brushed her hair, as per his orders.

"Yeah, but it's sweet. You're a very good Valentine's Day present. That was a very sweet idea. I only wanted you anyway." Then she cried out in pain and sneezed at the same time as he pulled her hair.

He spent the next two weeks with bronchitis, but he coughed a smile.


End file.
